My Temporal Lobe Hurts

I have a great memory for useless trivia. I have a pretty good memory for remembering everything my husband didn’t do but should have.

I also have a pretty strong recall for little things with the help of even vague-ish associative cues et al…but getting to the fag end of my 30s, my (declining) memory for numbers is killing me.

And the person causing bats in my belfry is none other than the offspring. As usual. Sighs.

We keep quite a few things under digital lock and key to keep him from giving into temptation and over indulging viz- iPad, t.v, Kindle, laptop etc but I’ll be damned if that isn’t coming back to bite me on the hieney.

With passwords for the phone, the Wi-Fi, the iPad, the Firestick, certain channels, it gets to a point sometimes when I need to unlock things, I sit with a blank look on my face, desperately searching in the memory banks for some kind of a clue to help me find the elusive #s; and no help is forthcoming. Totally a case of GIGO.

Earlier I had passwords, codes, credit card #s everything memorized and it wasn’t tough to recall them when needed and without too much prompting.

Now, my brain plays a Hot&Cold game with while I sift through data. Of course the process would be easier if I didn’t have a kid draped over my shoulder like a boa (imitating reptile and an accessory both), hissing in my ear, “Do you remember it Y-E-T??!!”

What would be best is if I could keep it unlocked and trust that agreements about t.v. time, play time on iPads were stuck to but that’s a bit unfair to expect from a kid when his parents are binge-watching Criminal Minds or Suits even though its ostensibly done without him being in the know.

But the brat knows us so well, when he sees the last played item on the watch list, he gives me a tsk-tsk look and takes the name of the person who’d have been watching the program and says, ” Someone was watching t.v. after I went to bed!”

I can’t begin to explain how amusing and confusing it is to be chastised by your child in a manner which he’s clearly picked up from you and then having to show your contrition even if you don’t feel the slightest bit contrite!

The things we do set an example for our kids. And while I try and set the aforementioned example, there’s a mini-me tapping his feet impatiently and saying,” Ahem….I’m waiting.”

Ye Gods!

Raising A Misguilded Missile

I read this blog post from a blogger I follow. He’s funny, his writing is very real and given that he has many more years of experience in the ephemeral field of parenting than I do; his posts make me feel more confident that all is not lost and my head may not explode…today at least.

When I was reading his latest post last night I realized that it was absolutely true in the context of my life. No matter how many times I’ve been at loggerheads with my folks, looking them straight in the eye and telling them off was never an option at all. Of course they aren’t the kind of parents who inspire that kind of disrespect but every child goes through the phase when the connection between them and their parents is at an all time low and you just can’t imagine that you are related at all.

And throughout my childhood until I left home, we did not piss my father off. We aren’t at all a patriarchal-sort of family but the idea of facing that grim, disapproving look on his face and having that heavy cloud of discord hanging over our home gave me the heebie-jeebies as a kid and I didn’t relish it as an adult either.

But getting back to present day…MLM has no compunction saying “NO” to either his father or I. He has had some epic meltdowns in public to an extent where I avoided quite a few team lunches and other outings with friends and co-workers simply because I didn’t want the slightest opportunity of a trigger to be present. His main failing, if I may call it that, is that he knows very little fear or trepidation from the unknown. All kids reach for a hot iron, fall off from some place, get avoidable booboos but this child is almost blind to it all.


He is what I once called a “misguided missile” and that description stuck in my head ever since.

On a road trip with friends of ours, he charged at a herd of buffaloes grazing patiently simply because he wanted to be close enough to see them. That he has seen more buffaloes than he may care to in his life time probably did not occur to him and off he went! That they were bigger than him, had horns and hooves that could inflict pain did not occur to him and he just jetted off with glee on seeing them. Red ran after him and picked him up just in time. What did the child do about our admonishmen?t He laughed it off and ran after birds next.


As time goes by I find that whatever has taken his fancy at a particular moment is something that he becomes entirely engrossed in. One hundred percent. It becomes difficult for him to stop himself from doing or exploring whatever has fallen in his cross hairs. So much is his enthusiasm towards that particular activity that he develops blinkered vision and is immune (most of the times) to the surroundings which includes a yelling banshee of a mother.

While I debate the worthiness of his adventurous spirit vs that of a more cautious child, I can also appreciate the utter abandon with which he does things. There is not one iota of any artifice or anything calculated in his enjoyment. One might say he was truly a free spirit. And one might say it when one has no has no other option but to view her life as a glass that’s half full because while you don’t always like your kids you do pretty much always love them. I mean how else would you explain that your child while cozying up to you invokes his innate goat and chews on your sleeves or collar? Mother love is an all encompassing, incomprehensible, (un)avoidable thing.

If only parenting was on time share basis….